


He Didn't Have To Be

by helsinkibaby



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-28
Updated: 2002-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I hope I'm at least half the dad he didn't have to be</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	He Didn't Have To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Song is "He Didn't Have To Be" by Brad Paisley

My mother didn't plan to have me.

It always surprises people when I put it so baldly like that - they expect me to talk around it, or hide it. My plain speaking on the matter always puts them on edge, but what else could they expect? I'm my mother's son, and it's a simple matter of fact. She never expected to have me, didn't want to get pregnant at that point in her life. But she did get pregnant, and once the deed was done, she didn't want to have an abortion. Not that she disagrees with a woman's right to choose, far from it. She had her choice, and she chose to have me.

When people hear that I know that I wasn't planned, that my mother did consider abortion as an option, they always ask me if I felt unwanted when I was a child, did I feel that my mother didn't love me as much as all the other kids' mothers loved them. Again, my response is far from it. I knew just how much my mother loved me, she never made a secret of it. She never made me feel unwanted, it was other people who did that. I remember one family wedding, I couldn't have been more than three or four, and Momma's aunt Diana, a small pinched old woman with a mouth that looked as if she were perpetually sucking lemons, made some comments about the disgrace that Momma had brought on the family. I didn't understand what she meant, but from the look on Momma's face, from the tears in her eyes, and from the way that Gramma hustled me away from everything, I knew it was something to do with me. I asked Momma about it later that night when she put me to bed, and wondered out loud if it was because I was different to all the other boys and girls in the family, because I only had a Momma and no Daddy. And Momma hugged me tight, and told me that it didn't matter what Aunt Diana thought, because she loved me, that I was the most important thing in her life, and she wouldn't be without me. And I remember how Momma's hair tickled my face, and the smell of her perfume, and I knew she meant it.

Momma loved me, I know that. But that doesn't mean that it was easy for her.

 __  
__

* When a single mom goes out on a date with somebody new

It always winds up feeling more like a job interview

My momma used to wonder if she'd ever meet someone

Who wouldn't find out about me and then turn around and run *

She was young when she had me, she was only twenty-five. But how many twenty-five year old guys do you know who are interested in taking on a woman with a child? Even when the woman is clever and beautiful and blonde and long-legged? And even when the child is as adorable as I was?

Momma had lots of first dates. Very few of them got to the second or third date stage. And I never met many of the men, mostly remembering the babysitters and Momma getting ready, nights she'd read me a story all dressed up, and leave a lipstick mark on my cheek when she kissed me goodnight, the sound of the doorbell ringing and a man's voice in the hall. Not that she went out too often mind you. I remember overhearing Momma's friends telling her that she should get out more, that she should meet this guy or that guy. And sometimes she'd agree, but more often than not she'd tell them that she had the only guy she needed in her life asleep in the next room.

Of course, sometimes she'd come home from a date, and the door closing would wake me up. I'd hear her talking to whoever was sitting for me, and sometimes she'd wonder if she'd ever meet someone who didn't care that she had a child, that any plans they made had to involve three people instead of two. It'd upset me to hear things like that, because I didn't like it when Momma was unhappy. But those were also the nights that she'd sneak into my room when the sitter was gone, and she'd kiss my cheek as I pretended to be asleep, and she'd whisper that she loved me more than anything else in the world.

She was a great mom, always there for me, even when she was working hard to support us. She clerked for a judge here in Washington for a while, then got some work as a political analyst. But our lives didn't change until I was five, and she got a call from the White House.

I remember that night, or, to be more exact, the next morning. Momma's friend Harriet had been over the night before, and this other guy had been with her. I don't remember his name now…. Bob, Bryce, something like that? I didn't like him much; it was obvious even to my young eyes that he was trying to date my mom, and he was always extra-nice to me whenever she was around. But whenever she wasn't around, he couldn't have cared less. He was this slimy creep of a guy, and I couldn't understand why Momma couldn't see that. Anyway, they were looking at a video of Momma on TV when I went to bed, and the next morning, when Momma was making pancakes, I knew she was upset. She was nervous about something, jumpy. I asked her if she was ok, and she smiled this distracted smile at me, and told me that she'd got a phone call the night before from the White House, asking her to go there. Well, I knew all about the White House, and that it was where the President worked, and of course, I wanted to go there too. But she just smiled, and laughed a little bit and said that I couldn't go with her then. After I whined a little bit, she said she'd see if we could go on one of the tours later on in the week and that made me happy.

I didn't think any more of it, not until Momma told me that she was going to work in the White House. I didn't think she liked the President, and told her that, but she told me that he seemed like a nice man, and that she wanted to try the job. But she told me that it was going to mean that she'd be working a lot, and wondered if I'd mind that. And I, with a five-year-old's forethought, asked if that meant that I'd be able to visit the White House where she worked if I promised to be good. And she told me that she thought that might be ok.

And that's just what we did. She would work late sometimes, but mostly she'd bring work home, and do it on her laptop. Or sometimes she'd come home and when I'd be in bed, she'd leave me asleep with a sitter and go back to work. Easiest for her were the times when I'd sleep at a friend's house, because then it didn't matter how late she stayed at the office. My favourite times were the ones when I'd stay in her office with her. It was dark and small but I loved it down there, and would sit in the corner quietly, colouring, doing my homework, reading, every so often saying hi to the people who came down there. My favourite was Donna, who looked a lot like my mom, but didn't sound like her. When she realised that I was going to be there a lot, she got a cot from somewhere and put it down there with some blankets, so that I could sleep if I was tired. That's how my stuffed elephant Dumbo ended up getting pride of place on Momma's desk for a while. Margaret and Ginger and Bonnie were nice to me as well, and Mrs Landingham used to give me cookies all the time.

But my favourite person that I met from the White House was him.

 __  
__

* I met the man I call my dad when I was five years old *

It was early on Saturday afternoon and we were at home. Momma was cleaning the house, and I was bouncing around the place because the first _Harry Potter_ film was released that day and Momma had promised me that we'd go. All the kids at school were talking about it, and Gramma had made me a cloak and wizard's hat for Halloween, and Momma had painted me a scar on my forehead. The pictures taken that night show a blond Harry Potter with the biggest grin on his face, a grin only matched by his mother's in the background.

That Saturday, there was a knock on the door, and Momma was a bit flustered, because she wasn't expecting company. When she opened it, there was an old man standing there, at least, I thought he was an old man. I later found out that he wasn't as old as I thought, and he certainly didn't act as old as he was. "Leo!" she said. "What are you…?"

He held up this thick sheaf of papers and said something about some problem with them, words that a five-year-old wouldn't understand. I did understand that he was asking Momma to help him out with them, and that he'd tried to call, but the phone wasn't working. I looked to the phone, and so did Momma, and both of us saw the receiver in the wrong place, and a pink rubber ball that had been a present from Ginger beside it. I'd been throwing it around the house, against Momma's instructions, and that fact made her give me _that_ look. The one that meant I was in serious trouble.

Any repercussions were deferred by the new visitor. He looked at me and couldn't stop surprise from showing on his face as he looked from me to Momma. "And who might you be?" he asked, addressing me, and seemingly ignoring Momma totally. That sent him up in my estimation straight away - most men who had seen Momma and met me talked to her about me, in that same sleazy tone that Bryce guy used all the time.

I stood up as straight as I could and held out my hand. "Andrew Jeremiah Hayes," I announced proudly. "Who are you?"

He raised his eyebrows and grinned, and reached out and shook my hand. He had a strong, firm grip. "Leo Thomas McGarry. Nice to meet you. You live here too?"

"Yup." I nodded proudly. "That's my Momma." I pointed at her, just in case he didn't know who I meant.

"Ah. And how old are you Andrew Jeremiah Hayes?"

"I'm five. How old are you?"

There was a shocked gasp from Momma, and she grabbed me by the shoulders, clapping her hand over my mouth. "Andrew, you shouldn't ask Mr McGarry that question! It's very rude!"

"But he asked me!" I began to protest around Momma's hand, and a laugh from him stopped us both in our tracks.

"He's got a point Ainsley," he said, and he got _the_ look from Momma for that. I wondered for a second if she was going to make him eat all his vegetables.

That was when Momma turned to me and told me that she and Mr McGarry had to do some work, and that we'd be right here, and that I was to go and play in my room.

I did as I was told, but I couldn't help hearing some of what was said.

"I didn't know you had a son Ainsley."

I could imagine Momma shrugging. "Yep."

"Might I ask…

"About the father?" She stepped on the end of his question. "Much as I would hate to malign the character of the man who is one half of my son's genetic makeup, he's a jerk. A jerk who I dated for a year, but when I told him I was pregnant, decided that he didn't want to know."

"I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter. It's all very legal and above board…he signed away all his paternal rights when Andy was born, and he's never even seen him. It's just the two of us. And it's not easy, but I wouldn't have it any other way." There was a long silence before they started talking about work, and I lost myself in my colouring book. I wandered out a couple of times, to get a snack from Momma, and then I wandered out to ask if it was time to go to the movie yet. Momma looked at her watch and cried out.

"What is it?" he asked.

"The movie's going to start in five minutes," Momma said, and I knew that she was thinking out loud. She looked down at her clothes, and at mine, and her face fell and I knew what she was going to say. "Sweetie, I'm sorry…"

My chin began to wobble and tears came into my eyes. "But you promised…!" I wailed.

"I know, I know…" Momma hugged me, but it didn't make it any better, and I heard Leo ask what the problem was.

"We had tickets to the _Harry Potter_ film in five minutes," Momma told him. "Even if we went now, didn't get caught up in any traffic, we'd still miss the first thirty minutes. At least."

"Can't you just go to another show?"

"It's _Harry Potter_ Leo! Do you know how hard it was to get these tickets?"

I looked up from Mom's shoulder and rubbed a hand across my eyes, the image of him standing there, hand on hip, the other rubbing his chin thoughtfully coming into sharper focus.

"I might have an idea." Even as he spoke, he was reaching for his cell phone.

 __  
__

* He took my mom out to a movie and for once I got to go *

Less than an hour later, we were in his car, driving into a big white house that I'd seen on the TV more times than I could remember, even visited a lot, but this time, I wasn't going to Momma's basement. And I was bouncing up and down because I was going to see _Harry Potter_ , but I didn't understand why Momma was getting all nutty about it. It was just a house after all, wasn't it? And it's wasn't like we hadn't been there before.

Leo took us through the corridors and the security checks, and all of a sudden we were in this room, and there was a man there that I'd seen on the TV and in pictures. But he looked different, he wasn't wearing a suit and tie tonight, and when she saw him, Momma grabbed my shoulders and held them tightly, telling me without words not to move a muscle and be on my best behaviour. But he turned to us with a big smile on his face and he held out his hand to me.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Josiah Bartlet."

"Andrew Jeremiah Hayes." Just like I'd done with Leo, I held out my hand and he shook it solemnly.

"Ah. And this must be your Mom?" I nodded and he smiled. "How are you Ainsley?"

"I'm fine Mr President. And might I say thank you for extending to us this courtesy, which you most certainly did not have to do, and both Andy and I really do appreciate."

"OK." I don't think that he understood what Momma said, but then again, neither did I. He turned his gaze back to me. "So, you're a big _Harry Potter_ fan then?" I nodded. "Me too. Hermione's my favourite. What about you?"

"Harry," I told him.

"Fair enough. Well, I think we've waited long enough for this…my wife and my daughters are already in there, my granddaughter too…I'll introduce them all to you later. And a couple of some other people who work with your mom…Leo, where are you going?"

He was halfway out the door. "I was just going to…that is…there's a lot of work to do on the thing…."

"It can wait for tonight. Come and watch the movie with us."

He didn't move for a minute, and I went over to him and caught him by the hand. "It's not a scary film," I told him. "But you can sit beside me if you want."

And he smiled down at me and nodded, and that's how I came to see _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ for the first time, in the White House cinema, a couple of rows back from the President of the United States, sitting in between my mom and Leo McGarry.

 __  
__

* A few months later I remember lying there in bed

I overheard him pop the question and prayed that she'd say yes *

And that was really the start of everything between them I guess, because it seemed that after that night, he was always there, always around. He took us home that night, and I was tired, because the President talked all about _Harry Potter_ to me, and enlisted me as a tiebreaker in a row between him and his granddaughter. I must've fallen asleep in the car, because I remember being carried into our house, and thinking that it didn't feel like Momma who was carrying me. When I looked up, I saw that it was Leo, and he winked down at me and told me to go back to sleep, so I did.

And after that, he went to movies with us, he came to the house and had dinner with us. He'd tell me stories about places he'd gone and people he'd met, and he even came to some of my soccer games with Momma. And I thought he was the coolest guy I'd ever met, and would be forever bugging Momma about where he was and whether he was coming over that night. And she'd tell me that I shouldn't annoy him, that I should leave him alone, but then he'd arrive and he'd smile at me and throw me over his shoulder, and do everything to contradict what Momma had just told me. And I used to look at her and think that she'd be angry with me, and I could never figure out why she was looking at us with this big silly smile on her face.

I was lying in bed one night that we'd all gone out to a hockey game. I'd fallen asleep in the car again and Leo had carried me in, but I'd woken up when Momma had tucked me in, and I couldn't drop off again. I got up, intending to go out to her, but when I got to the door, slightly ajar in case I called for her, I heard that they were talking. And there was something in their voices that told me that it wouldn't be a good idea to go out there and interrupt them, so I listened instead. And I didn't understand everything that was being said, but I understood the word "marry" when Leo said it, knew what it meant, and I can still picture a little six year old boy, huddled at the doorjamb, hands clenched, praying with everything in him that she'd say yes.

 __  
__

* And then all of a sudden

Oh, it seemed so strange to me

How we went from something's missing

To a family

Lookin' back all I can say

About all the things he did for me

Is I hope I'm at least half the dad

That he didn't have to be *

They told me the next day, sat me down on the couch and told me that they wanted to get married, that they wanted to make the three of us into a real family, and what did I think of that? And I looked up at Momma and up at Leo, and I asked them, "When you and Leo get married, can I call him Dad?" And Momma got tears in her eyes, and Leo's voice was all husky and croaky when he said that I sure could, and he pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head.

I couldn't understand why they didn't get married right then and there, but they told me that there was stuff going on at work, that some people were trying to get the President in trouble for lying and that they needed to help him before they could get married. But we did start to look for a house, and when we found it, we all moved in together. And I got a new sister out of it, which was strange for a while because she was nearly the same age as Momma, but they got along well, and she gave me lots of presents, and she was a teacher so she could help me with my homework when I got older, which was pretty cool.

When Momma and Dad finally did get married, the three of us are there in the photographs, all smiling happily. Grandpa gave Momma away, and Momma wanted Dad to ask the President to be his best man, but Dad asked me to do it instead. He told me that he needed to stand up beside him and make sure that everything went ok on the day, and could I do that? I said sure, and I didn't mind a bit when he told me that the President should make the speech at the dinner.

I thought it would change things, the two of them being married and me being Andy McGarry instead of Andy Hayes, but it didn't, not really. The real changes had come when Dad first came into our lives, when we moved into the house. By the time they were married, he was already my dad, we were long since a family. And I was so thrilled to finally have a real dad at last that it didn't matter that Aunt Diana refused to come to the wedding. It didn't matter that people said nasty things about Momma and Dad, that the other boys at school would tease me because he was older than their dads. I didn't care about any of that, because he was my dad, and that was all that mattered.

He was the one who told me stories, who took me to hockey games, who got mad when Uncle Jed tried to get me to shout for Notre Dame against Michigan. He was the one who helped me with my homework, who helped chase the monsters out from under the bed. And when I got older, when I went to junior high and high school, he was the one who convinced Momma that it was ok to give me a little bit more freedom than she was really comfortable with giving me, while at the same time laying down the law to me about all the things that I'd better not get up to. The night of my prom, after Momma had taken all the photos and flash bulbs were dancing in my eyes, he took me aside and told me that he was proud of me, that I was a good kid. And I walked out of the house that night ten feet tall.

He was a great dad. And more than that, he was my friend too. I could talk to him about anything.

And I did, three years ago, after I'd graduated from Duke and begun to attend Harvard Law School.

 __  
__

* I met the girl that's now my wife about three years ago *

My first day there, I met a girl. Not just any girl. _The_ girl. She was short, with light brown hair, with a Texas twang and a mind that could dance circles around any of our classmates.

When I told Dad about her, he laughed and said something about how he'd always heard that men went for women that were like their mothers.

When I told her about Dad, she was amazed. Her family are staunch Democrats, and her father actually volunteered on the first Bartlet for America campaign, and voted for him both times. She was amazed that my dad was Leo McGarry, and wondered, wasn't he a little old to have a son my age? So I told her the truth - that he wasn't my biological father, but he was my Dad. That he'd been my Dad since I was five years old, and that I wanted to be just like him one day.

The happiest day of my life was our wedding day, as I danced with Momma, and watched Dad and Sarah waltzing and smiling on the other side of the floor.

Actually, that's a lie.

 __  
__

* We had the perfect marriage but we wanted somethin' more

Now here I stand surrounded by our family and friends

Crowded 'round the nursery window as they bring the baby in *

The happiest day of my life is today, the happiest moment of my life is right now. We're in Washington again, at GW, where Dad once told me that they spent long hours in when Uncle Jed and Uncle Josh were shot. But it's a happier time now, and Dad and Mallory and her husband Sam and their three kids are beside me, and so is Momma, and we're standing in front of the nursery window, watching as my son is wheeled in.

He's the most perfect thing I've ever seen - big blue eyes, tufts of blonde hair sticking up all over the place. And Momma's crying, telling me that it's just like looking at me when I was a baby, and Dad's got a smile on his face that's threatening to cut it right in half. I'm so glad that he's here for this - he's seventy-five now, but he's still as healthy as ever; he tells me from time to time that having me around kept him young for years. And as we stand at the window, he puts his arm around my shoulders and smiles up at me - I still can't believe that I'm taller than he is, have been since I was sixteen.

"I'm proud of you son," he tells me, and the words send a lump rising up my throat. "You done good."

I shake my head. "No Dad. _You_ done good," I tell him.

He waves a hand and looks away. I know that I've embarrassed him, but it's the truth, and it needs to be told. "I mean it Dad. You've raised me like your own for the last twenty years…"

"You _are_ my own," he corrects me, and I nod, recognising his point. He didn't have a son before me, and I've never known any other father. Sometimes, people ask me if I want to find my real dad. I always tell them that I know where my real dad is - he's in DC, with my mom. Why would I want anyone else?

"I just hope that I'm half the dad you are," I tell him, and he smiles and pulls me into a hug.

When we separate, Momma slips her arm around Dad's waist, finally tearing her eyes away from the baby to look at me. "Have you decided on a name yet?" she asks, and everyone around us stands still, waiting.

I nod, looking right at Dad when I speak. "Thomas. Thomas Leo McGarry."

Mallory and Sam exchange smiles, and more tears come into Momma's eyes. Dad looks surprised for a second, then nods his head. He can't look at me, but I'm betting if he did that there'd be tears in his eyes too. So I look away from him, giving him a moment to pull himself together, and find myself staring instead into the innocent blue eyes of my son. And I think of my dad, and of all the years that we've had together, and all the years that we have in front of us, and I hope that I'm at least half the dad he didn't have to be.


End file.
